


Wish Granted

by Townycod13



Series: Nightmares Realized [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, edited and reposted here, lots of angst holyshit, old ff fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 13:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13459527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: Twisted: Form into a bent, curling, or distorted shape





	Wish Granted

**Author's Note:**

> so I wrote this ages ago back in my ff days but I had a lot of aspects that I was dissatisfied with. I was taking a recent look at it and decided to make some major edits. Rather than reposting it on ff I figured I'd drop it here. hopefully you guys enjoy XD;;

**Wish Granted**

_Twisted: Form into a bent, curling, or distorted shape_

"You want to see me dead?" the breathless cackle pushed its way out, "You seriously want to see me fucking dead?"

"I'd fucking love to see you dead! As much as fucking possible, just fucking _die_ already!"

In all likeliness he would have shown some hesitance if he wasn't so pissed, at least the thought was comforting, but considering this was the big 'confession' stage of the confrontation... this was the truth coming out into the open. This was the first time he was being honest.

Maybe Kenny broke a tiny bit. The blood throbbing until all he could hear was the sound of his own currently functioning body doing its job. The laughter that wanted to bubble its way through his throat was only subjugated by the staggering sting of the words.

Maybe he broke just a bit, but through the sharp pain of rejection he couldn't resist the way his lips curled upwards. It's hard to say whether such an expression could be considered a smile or a snarl.

"Wish granted."

It would be fucking awesome to have seen the look on his face. His expression when the balance tipped backwards, the sky bringing its clear and gentle color into his vision, began to plummet towards the oncoming traffic. It would have been nice to see his face.

Ideally it would look shocked or shattered, like his entire world was diving down into the abyss of death that was supposedly inescapable.

Kenny knew better than to expect something like that.

He'd seen before, maybe not in this shade of green, but the glint of satisfaction that some held in moments like these.

It would be unbearable to actually see it so he allowed his vision to blur in his descent.

"Kenny!"

Perhaps his heart broke. That the tears that stung his eyes weren't just rage and mirth, that for just a moment he was heartbroken and torn. Perhaps the honesty resounding in his friends confession was too much to bear.

_"Would you just die already? Save the world the trouble of seeing your goddamn breathing?"_

Regardless, he wasn't going to give the fucker any satisfaction.

-2. Innuendo

Kyle didn't know why he woke up with puffy eyes and feeling angrier than he had in years. He hadn't experienced this kind of rage upon waking since... it was difficult to label a time he'd felt this much inconsolable anger that didn't in some way involve the name 'Cartman'.

That was a name of the past now though. A childhood friend who had long since flipped off the entire town and disappeared in an obnoxious cloud of glory.

Eric Cartman was not terribly missed in Kyle's life.

No. This anger was different though. He really, sincerely, wanted to kill someone and he didn't know why. Cartman had never left a question as to why, it was always painfully obvious. This however was more of a bitter anger towards a person. Less of the horrid rage and more… upset. Like betrayal.

It burned somewhere in his mind and made his every action sting with the unresolved tension inside. There was no target. There was no goal. Just the displeasure.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised to see Kenny at the bus stop that morning. He just gritted his teeth and smiled like always, somehow feeling disappointed.

Would he have felt less frustrated if Kenny wasn't there?

Kenny was as alive and vibrant as always. Happily interjecting innuendo into every one of Stan's statements, causing the teen untold frustration. Kenny was the same as always. Simple, silly, and mirthful.

Maybe it was the way Kenny looked at him. There was something bitter in that blue. It felt like an accusation, shards of something angry and something hurt. Eyes aside, Kenny seemed to be maliciously amused with the sight of him.

"Dude, you look like shit, did you sleep okay last night?" Stan's concern was of course followed by a rude comment about Stan's mother, but Stan brushed it off the best he could as Kenny's morning ritual.

For whatever reason Kyle felt like saying that he hadn't. He felt like he'd been up all night beating up the wall in frustration, that he had the bruises on his knuckles to prove it, he felt like he'd cried like a baby and he felt like he'd finally gotten what he wanted and somehow Kenny's mirthful eyes had taken it away.

"I don't know… last night was a bit of a haze. I was really tired so I went straight to bed, maybe I'm sick." Kyle contemplated this option seriously but shrugged it off when Kenny looked straight at him victoriously.

He didn't know what'd he done to piss off Kenny but he really wished the little bastard would bugger off. The guy was seriously fucking annoying; he only tolerated Kenny's presence for Stan's sake. If he could tolerate _Cartman_ (the name was something akin to a curse word) for Stan, Kenny would be easy.

He just wished Kenny would fucking disappear.

As if responding to his thoughts, Kenny attracted the other two boys' attention with an elaborate bow. In one swift movement he alerted his friends to the oncoming bus by stepping in front of it and sending Kyle the same malicious look he gave him yesterday.

"Fuck you."

Kenny's blood splattering over Stan face and Kyle's favorite jacket. The people on the bus freaking out. Cries from some of the more squeamish students. And all Kyle could feel was mild satisfaction that Kenny was finally gone and unbelievable rage at Kenny's flippant attitude.

Kyle didn't know why he felt so angry or why he felt betrayed, he didn't even know why he felt so happy that Kenny was gone. He did feel tears of frustration build in his eyes and he couldn't even wait for Stan to exclaim in shock.

"You bastard!"

-3. Mischief

He wasn't able to resist punching Kenny when he saw him the next day. He hadn't the slightest clue he wanted to. He knew he didn't like Kenny but that shouldn't have been any reason to punch the guy.

Kenny, if possible, seemed even more amused than yesterday morning before he'd skipped school. The malice crinkling in his eyes was enough to scare Kyle.

"Dude! What the hell? What did Kenny do?" Stan stood between the orange clad boys and Kyle felt some of his anger simmer down. Sort of. He was being irrational. He needed to calm down.

"Yeah, what did I do?" Kenny echoed, same impish look as earlier.

Kyle snapped.

"He _breathed_! He's still fucking alive, that's what he did!" Kyle didn't know why the hell he expected anything other than being alive from the poor teen. Stan took a step back with an expression close to disgust before attempting to calm Kyle down.

"Are you okay man? You've been pissy since yesterday; I know you're stressed with exams but it's not cool to take it out on Kenny like that…"

Kyle gritted his teeth in frustration. He knew that Kenny deserved it. He was an asshole and he shouldn't even be here! Stan just doesn't _get_ it.

A brown glove patting his shoulder distracted Stan from attempting to calm his hotheaded friend down, "That's what your mom said last night."

Stan pinched his nose, "Kenny, seriously, you are not helping the situation."

"Is what she said after—"

"Kenny!"

With surprising self-control Kenny refrained from commenting further on Stan's mother and turned to look at the still simmering daywalker, "Listen, I don't know why I pissed you off," the mischief reflected in his face screamed that he was entirely aware and enjoying every moment of Kyle's frustration, "But my face is my only redeeming feature! Next time aim lower… just not too low." Kenny snickered, "Unless you want to of course."

If possible Stan looked even more disturbed; pinching bridge of his nose Stan insisted that they just get on the recently arrived bus.

Kyle narrowed his eyes at the blond leaning his head against the window, Kenny knew exactly why Kyle felt like shit and he was _enjoying_ it. The fucking audacity of that asshole.

He'd figure out what the hell Kenny was up to. Right after he figured out why he felt so upset that Kenny was actually daring to look at him with such resentment.

Kenny was just stupid, perverted, druggie, moron, poor, lazy Kenny fucking McCormick. He wasn't allowed to be pissed at Kyle. Kyle hadn't done anything to him! He'd tolerated the bastard his entire life and he'd never even given the dickhead shit about all the times he disappeared for months at a time.

If he couldn't be depended on, he should just fucking die and stop bothering them.

"Are you okay, Kyle?" Stan's voice penetrated Kyle's bitter thoughts.

Kyle managed a sort of less pissed off frown, "I'm fine… just…" Kyle grasped for something Kenny had done that he could bitch about. Something to explain to Stan that he wasn't being utterly nuts.

He drew a blank.

"Kenny's been giving me pissy looks since yesterday. It's just…"

The look Stan gave him said it all. Somewhere in between 'are you serious?' and 'I don't care anymore', "If you have a problem with Kenny you should probably try talking to him."

That was Stan's way of saying 'I don't want any part of this so just deal with it on your own'.

Kyle sent him the customary reply to that sort of advice, a shit eating smile and shallow assurance that 'of course he would talk to Kenny!'

Neither boy thought for even a moment that Kyle wasn't lying through his teeth. In fact Stan wasn't entirely sure that Kyle's words couldn't have been translated into 'I'll be sure to punch him harder next time'.

Their arrival at school gave Kyle a sense of dread, a paranoia that spread to every limb and declaring that at any minute something would happen to send his day spiraling to shit.

"See you in third," Stan waved, rushing to his first period in hopes of being able to talk to some friends before class. Stan was the social type that had casual friends from most of his classes and enjoyed talking to them. Kyle much preferred to use the time before class to read.

First period was uneventful other than an explosion that came from across town. For South Park, that just wasn't strange enough to get worried about. Besides the news on his phone said it was only an accident involving fireworks and there were no causalities.

Second period was the one he had with Kenny. The blond grinned and sauntered to Kyle's desk in the front, "Still on your man-period?"

Kyle ground his teeth, "What do you want, McCormick?"

Kenny looked like he was marveling at his handiwork. How irate Kyle was growing in so little time. He supposed that was only natural. Kenny was _trying_ to piss him off after all.

Kyle was ready to retaliate some more at the look but couldn't help but pause to look at how _angry_ Kenny looked. He was smiling, sure, and he looked his normal amiable self, yeah, but something in the expression was heartbreakingly vengeful. He grit his teeth at the thought and pushed aside the way his heart sank just a bit. How fucking dare Kenny look at him like that.

"I _want_ …" Kenny's grin grew _savage_ , "To grant your wish."

The younger boy barely had a moment register the sing-song finish before Kenny had taken an exactoknife out of his pocket and slit his own throat, making sure to cut through both the arteries bringing blood to the brain. It was such a simple and practiced slit.

Kenny's smile remained untarnished and his glittering eyes followed Kyle's horror filled face as he collapsed onto the classroom floor, ignoring all the screams of his classmates.

Why was it that there was a corpse in front of him but he felt like he was the one that couldn't breathe?

-4. Game Over

Not seeing Kenny for a week had been oddly unnerving. Kyle was used to the boy disappearing but somehow he'd felt that the previous week had been emotionally tasking. He remembered fighting with Stan over the boy, something about being too mean but Kyle couldn't remember why that had actually mattered earlier in the week.

All he knew was seeing Kenny at the arcade with Stan on Saturday made his blood boil.

"Where the fuck have you been all week?" he tried to keep his tone even, it came out biting instead.

Kenny barely spared Kyle another malicious glance from above the fighting game he was currently losing. It was long enough for the amusement dancing within to latch itself into Kyle's memory. It wasn't a kind sort of bemusement and Kyle would swear there was rage mixed within.

" _Well_?" Kyle pressed.

Kenny spoke as lightly as he would a dirty joke, laughter marring the edge of his voice, "Dead."

The word made Kyle shiver and he felt his face flush all over again. Why had he even bothered to attempt to contain his anger? What a despicable--Kenny shouldn't disappear all the fucking time and he sure as hell shouldn't fucking _joke_ about dying! If he wants to fucking die he should just do it already--

Kyle paused, for a moment wondering how many times this week alone he'd sincerely wished for his friends death. Everyday seemed to get more and more irritating.

He didn't want to think about the feeling of betrayal and sadness. Those emotions ate at you, starting from your center and moving into every inch with a helpless cry of loss. Betrayal _hurt_. Anger was easier. Anger had always been easier.

"Why the fuck would you even joke about that?!" Stan looked like he was going to step in soon but Kyle was already going, "If you want to die so fucking bad why don't you just save us the fucking trouble?" Kyle spat out the last words.

Still, his own words struck him as oddly familiar in an uncomfortable way and put a stop to his rant going any further.

GAME OVER flashed glaringly at Kenny's screen and Stan was looking at Kyle with an expression he didn't want to decipher. Stan knew about his temper but Stan couldn't seem to see why he was _right_ to be so angry. Not this time at least.

"Yeah, why don't I?" the words were accompanied by a mirthless giggle.

Kyle punched the back of his head.

Kenny clutched the back of his head in a knee jerk flinch, like he was ready to curl up and endure more. He seemed to catch himself in the motion and turned to look at Kyle with the same broken look he'd given on all the other times. It took just a moment for Kyle to realize that the anger and joy sparkling in his eyes were more or less broken shards and not a definitive emotion.

It was the only way Kenny could handle it.

...handle what?

Instead of punching again like he oh so desired to Kyle just watched limply as Kenny proceeded to shoot himself in the head with such expertise that Kyle wondered if Kenny was used to aiming for the exact part of the brain sure to kill upon impact.

He didn't feel as angry, even though it was obvious that Kenny had done it to spite him, his usual retaliatory nature retreating in favor of numb acceptance.

Something in Kenny was broken and he was dead and he'd asked him to die hadn't he? And he shouldn't feel so happy and so upset that Kenny committed suicide because Kenny dead meant that Kenny was gone and that meant that Kyle didn't have to see his horrible fucking face day in and day out and it shouldn't upset him so much thinking that Kenny was gone and it shouldn't frustrate him so much and he didn't know what to think…

"…you bastard…"

Kenny's death didn't upset him, it pissed him off. Why? Was it the brain guts that would take quite some time to clean off the game system? Was it Kenny's defiance? Kenny's flippant attitude?

Was it that Kenny hadn't worn his hood since the day he'd jumped off the bridge?

…when had Kenny jumped off a bridge? Kyle shook the ludicrous thought and barely registered when Stan punched him.

He did punch back though. Kenny was a jerk, Kenny just up and dying like that, so Stan shouldn't be so pissed that Kenny committed suicide after Kyle asked... him... to...

The numbness sank into his mind and he couldn't comprehend his own thoughts or even the implications of death, he was just angry that Kenny dared to hate him. Angry was good. Anger was easy.

Kenny shouldn't hate him! Kenny was the bad guy. Kenny deserved... to... die...

When Stan's voice broke through the haze of his own mind he finally had a target to zero in on. It was Stan's fault. He just didn't understand. Kenny was wrong. Kenny was dead. And Kyle was fully ready to cover up the twisted feeling building in his gut with the physical pain of dueling with his best friend.

-5. Collaboration

The bruises wouldn't soon heal.

Kyle didn't care though. He couldn't remember why Stan and himself had been so fucking pissed at each other but he remembered that whatever it was, he was definitely right and Stan was just being a jerk.

He knew it had something to do with the hoodless boy standing nonchalantly at the bus stop smiling at him.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Kenny considered this and Kyle was grateful that Stan was running late, the guy was getting so pissed about his attitude towards Kenny.

"You. You are definitely a problem." Kenny chirped finally, hardly bothering to conceal his disdain for the daywalker.

It reeked of bitterness. Kyle's expression soured.

Kyle grabbed his collar, ready to demand answers, ready to get them by any means necessary, ready to find the evidence he needed to prove to Stan that _Kenny was definitely the bad guy here_ , and asked the oddest question on his list, "Why the fuck aren't you wearing your ridiculous hood?"

It felt important.

Kenny didn't even consider this, "So that you can get a good fucking look."

The sneer was so hateful… Kyle bit back a bit of his own recoil at the look, "Get a good look at what? Your dirty face or your dumb expressions?"

If anyone was keeping score, Kyle was pretty sure he would lose points for that pathetic retort.

Regardless the words somehow seemed to strike a nerve, "Better to be fucked up on the outside than disgusting on the inside."

That hurt more than Kyle cared to admit.

The imaginary scoreboard would have awarded McCormick some points.

" _I'm_ disgusting on the inside?" Kyle resisted, barely, beating the shit out of the skinnier boy, "Have you ever had a fucking x-ray?"

Very witty, Kyle. Kyle hardened his glare to make up for the general lameness of the retort. He stopped keeping score, knowledgeable that he would lose badly.

Something about that statement seemed to grate on Kenny's nerves though, "Because I _totally_ can afford fucking x-rays!" Kenny pushed Kyle's hands off of his jacket collar, "You know what Kyle?"

_He's going to do it again._

"Don't do it Kenny." Kyle threatened.

_Do what?_

Kyle didn't care but Kenny shouldn't do it.

Kenny's horrid smile was enough to put some doubt in Kyle's mind.

"See you to-fucking-morrow. I don't have the fucking energy to deal with this today."

"Don't run the fuck away from me!" Kyle made to grab Kenny if he tried to walk away. Oddly he felt more unnerved to keep Kenny out of the street over the sidewalk that would easily bring him home.

"I hope the bruises hurt. I hope that you enjoy getting your fucking wish over and over. I hope this makes you as miserable as you can get."

And then he made Kyle do it.

Pistol forced into his hands, Kyle didn't even have a chance to struggle before Kenny used his shaking hand to shoot himself in the head.

The pistol fell to the snow with crimson stains.

-6. Entertainment

Maybe he didn't want him gone. Maybe he wanted Kenny to stop being gone. Maybe he wanted him to look.

Kenny was definitely looking at him but the expression was dead and broken. Kyle couldn't even catch sight of malice anymore.

Just dry amusement.

Maybe he wanted some of the joy to fade from those eyes because of him. To matter enough to hurt him. To really hurt him. Maybe he wanted him to disappear so that he wouldn't have to think about any of that.

Maybe if Kenny really did disappear than he could stop being so annoyed. Maybe he wouldn't be so angry.

Kenny grinned and approached Kyle, so sarcastically happy that Kyle had traveled all the way to his house.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Kenny bowed mockingly and Kyle was reminded of something unpleasant that he couldn't quite remember.

"Why are you alive?"

Kenny looked surprised for a moment and then realized the meaning behind the question.

_Why aren't you just dead already?_

"Spite, maybe?" Kenny whittled dryly.

Kyle narrowed his eyes, "Why aren't you pulling up your hood?"

Amusement danced in those blue eyes, "You've already asked that."

He had, hadn't he? Strange he wouldn't remember that annoying response. Dirty. That's what Kenny was. Unhygienic and messy. His hair was greasy and his eyes were murky pools of death.

"Why are you angry?"

Kenny clicked his tongue half-heartedly, "I'd think you were writing my biography with how many questions you're asking."

Kyle sent him the same bland look that promised anger if he didn't stop giving lip service.

The poor boy was entirely unaffected by the unspoken threat. Kyle shamefully remembered that even in his own home, _especially_ in his own home, Kenny was used to threatening looks that resulted in violence.

"Then let me ask you a question," Kyle didn't like where this was going, "Shouldn't I just die?"

_Wish granted._

_Grant your wish._

_Hope you enjoy getting your fucking wish over and over again._

"Must be nice getting what you want all the time."

Kyle thought fast this time, moving to grab Kenny's arm and only succeeding in pulling off the orange parka while the boy sprinted off out the back door. Kyle gave chase.

"How should I go this time?" Kenny's holler was sickening to hear and Kyle tried to increase his pace, "Something quick, but it'd be _boring_ if it was just another gun!"

The pistol tossed over his shoulder was painfully familiar looking and Kyle tried not to look at it as he chased the laughing boy.

"Oh! I know!"

Kyle didn't think he'd ever be able to forget the sound or the scream and especially not the next thing that flew over Kenny's shoulder flippantly.

The mangled eye squished onto the ground and Kyle felt very nauseous. Another one flew and hit Kyle's jacket and Kenny stopped running. Turning to face his good friend, Kenny grinned cheerfully without eyes to crinkle with joy.

_He ripped out his own eyes…_

Kyle felt sick. Catching up with the other boy meant nothing; he was already going into shock. Kenny's body collapsed and Kyle stared at the heavily breathing boy. Kenny was still grinning, but it looked like a painful smile. It looked like it intended to rip open the skin of Kenny's cheeks.

The voice that bubbled up honestly terrified Kyle, "Enjoy the show?"

Without any further hesitation Kenny rustled through his pockets, pulled out Stan's house key, and jammed it through his throat.

Kyle didn't know why he felt tears well up. He did know why he relived his lunch.

Kenny killed himself.

It somehow hit Kyle particularly hard. Kenny was choking to death on his own blood.

And he did it for Kyle.

He'd run from his own home, away from his _family_ , his _sister_ , and killed himself on request.

Kyle didn't know why he relived his lunch twice and revisited last night's dinner.

What would the little girl that looked up to her brother like a hero think?

Kyle tried to fish out his own emotions but the final gurgles of Kenny's life ending broke his thoughts.

Kenny killed himself.

And he wanted Kyle to _enjoy the show_?

"I am so fucking happy you're dead." Kyle's voice shook with hatred, "Because I want to kill you so fucking badly that I'd probably brag to the fucking police."

_You want to see me dead?_

-7. Love

It wasn't uncommon to find Kenny and Kyle sharing vindictive looks of late. It was becoming expected and tragically annoying. Stan just didn't expect a drag out fight in the school cafeteria.

"Fuck off, dickhole!" Kyle's fist connected with the skin of Kenny's cheek and Stan could swear he heard something _crack_. Kenny was knocked back a few inches and didn't even recover before lunging at the other boy.

They both collapsed onto the ground with the force of Kenny's attack, Kenny wasted no time clawing at Kyle's face and neck, Kyle rounded back his arm and smashed his fist on Kenny's knee before bringing his head up for a head-butt.

"No thank you, I don't fuck dirty sluts!"

Kenny's cry of pain turned into a near feral growl and Kyle used the momentary distraction to push Kenny off of him, tackling him in the process and pounding in Kenny's face.

Fist raised for a hit that was sure to leave some permanent damage, Kyle barely caught sight of the boy's eyes.

"I'm not dirty, you faggot!"

The voice would have been more convincing if it hadn't cracked ever so slightly. The face would have looked angrier if there wasn't something shining in murky blue depths threatening to pour down his contrarily messy face.

Kyle didn't hesitate to punch and the crack that resounded through the room over the students cheers to 'fight' half made Kyle wonder if he'd killed him.

It wouldn't be the first time.

_How could I have possibly killed Kenny before?_

But Kenny's face wasn't tearful anymore and within a moment he had aimed a punch at Kyle's face, hitting him square in the throat. As Kyle choked Kenny let out a broken cackle.

"You _really_ want me fucking dead, don't you?"

The voice didn't crack anymore. And it didn't sound upset.

It was just _so funny_ that someone would want to see him, of all people, dead.

"Try. For once just fucking _try_ and remember." Kenny laughed so apathetically that Kyle could cry, "I'm sure the memory will be a happy one to comfort you on those lonely nights when you realize no one loves a fucking monster!"

It comforted Kenny on those nights.

Kyle hadn't noticed him grip a knife that had knocked on the floor near them and he didn't have time to respond before it was thrust through Kenny's chest, puncturing the heart. He thought he should have mustered the response time to stop the fork Kenny fumbled for and jammed so far through his eye that it hit brain.

Because Kenny still couldn't bare to look at Kyle's face in his final moments.

-8. Kenny

Kenny's room was dark and Kyle was sure he heard a rat scuttle across the ground.

Kenny was there. Breathing softly on his bed. Acting for all the world like he wasn't an evil, demented, stupid bastard who apparently lived to make Kyle's life misery.

Kenny was at fault. He didn't know what was wrong or why it was happening or why he felt worse and worse as the days past but he always felt much worse when Kenny disappeared and his general anger against Kenny's existence meant that it must be Kenny's fault.

Kenny shouldn't be breathing softly; he should be choking on every breath.

Kenny's neck felt too thin when his fingers curled around it, his body straddling the other boy's so as to make sure he couldn't wake up and retaliate.

_Stop._

Kenny didn't struggle at first. He didn't even seem to notice the pressure and then he looked mildly uncomfortable and at last his horrid death filled eyes burst open, half-conscious brain demanding that Kenny allow breath.

Kenny's muffled scream and skinny fingers gripping Kyle's, pulling and clawing. Kyle just glared down at the boy. He should just stop breathing.

Kenny smashed a text book over Kyle's head and he wondered faintly why Kenny would sleep next to his math. The grip loosened and Kenny could breathe.

_That should hurt._

Kenny wasn't breathing softly anymore. He was gasping and panting and glaring and close to crying. Kyle didn't care.

Kenny should suffer. Kenny made everything confusing and he was looking at Kyle hatefully again.

_I can hear rats._

Kenny had hate and broken emotions gleaming in the dirty eyes.

Kenny didn't scream when Kyle pulled his hair, just gave him a dry look that seemed to beg the question 'is that seriously all you got?'

Kenny was surprised when Kyle's lips smashed against his own. He squirmed and struggled and pushed and Kyle wouldn't budge.

Kenny, Kenny, Kenny, Kenny.

Kenny's tear filled eyes still swam with hatred but fear also shone.

Kenny screamed and Kyle didn't stop.

Kyle woke up from the nightmare terrified and angry. He didn't know why he felt disappointed that there wasn't any bruise on his head from the textbook. It was hard to say what nightmares were reality nowadays but the bruises always told the truth and he knew he would have found sick satisfaction in this one being real.

His room was the same as ever and he'd never left the night before. He didn't want to know why he wished it wasn't a fantasy and he didn't want to know.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. So he did both.

_My sick, twisted, fantasy._

-9. Breathe

He knew it was a nightmare because he remembered it so vividly. He would have forgotten it if it was real. He didn't know why or how.

Perhaps it was the nightmare that made the reality of staring at the bleeding corpse seem so surreal. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice piped that it wasn't the dream, it was the fact that he had seen this same corpse too many times to count.

He brushed off that thought half-heartedly, how could he have seen this corpse before? People only die once and thereby you only get one 'first' look at a corpse.

It was pretty bloody. Kyle couldn't help but wonder mildly how Sharon Marsh was ever going to get the stain out of her carpet. The blood certainly wasn't going to come out of his jacket.

Kenny was draped over him like a blanket. The lacerations marring his pale skin still leaking a bit of liquid but it was on the tale end of things, it was strange that the painful looking marks had no effect on Kenny's expression.

The boy's smile looked serene and his face looked totally satisfied. Kyle grit his teeth at the thought, Kenny _wasn't_ satisfied. He hadn't made Kyle suffer enough to be satisfied.

Kenny was doing something to get to him.

Kenny was dead on top of him and oddly he didn't feel for even a moment that this was the last blow. It didn't make even a bit of sense to expect a dead man to come after him but he totally expected it.

_This isn't my wish. You're not gone. You'll be back._

He felt both bitter and nauseous at that thought.

Stan finally seemed to get over the horrific scene that had played out and carefully lifted Kenny off of his super best friend.

Kyle tried to muster an emotion to face Stan with, to face the corpse with, but he could only draw upon numb.

Stan didn't even have the energy to hit him, "…dude… what did Kenny do to deserve that kind of treatment?"

It was odd to talk about the how Kyle had 'psychologically abused' Kenny when Kenny was very obviously the source of most of abuse towards himself. He _cut himself open in front of them_.

Kenny's guts, some of them at least, were still sprawled in Kyle's lap. The realization sparked the embers of anger within him.

"Everything." he couldn't look at Stan, "He wouldn't leave me alone and he still won't!"

His voice held more bitterness than he honestly felt.

Stan forced him to look into the gleaming sapphires of life that he called eyes and Kyle wished desperately for blue murky holes to oblivion, "What did Kenny actually _do_ other than _breathe_ to piss you off so much?"

His voice was cold, he was very angry, but still held some semblance of just trying to understand. Stan loved his friends. He wanted to help. His eyes held hope and voice was tight with pain.

Kyle only had one real answer.

"Breathing is the problem."

-10. Favor

It was the tragedy of being wanted dead. Dead, gone, unwanted, cast away.

Kenny's smile was so still that his face might as well have been made of plastic. His eyes wouldn't move from content boredom and his body was perfectly still.

Kyle glared from across the table.

He didn't care why Kenny had decided to drop by his house but he was sure it was bad! Kenny was up to no good, Kyle could just _tell_. Everyday hurt for some reason or another and Kyle was positive it was Kenny's fault.

He just didn't know how.

"What are you doing here?"

Kenny let out a chuckle that would have sounded amused if he didn't look so damn inanimate. With the way it was, Kenny just looked like a doll imitating a chuckle.

"Do I need a reason to drop by a close friend's house?"

It was glistening in his eyes again. Deep hatred and resentment.

Kyle almost sneered, _friends_ , right, pull the other one.

"I don't suppose... but normally we would go to Stan's or something."

It was unspoken that something _bad_ had happened at Stan's last time they played videogames over there. Kyle just remembered that the evening got really awkward after Kenny left and Stan got super serious.

What a killjoy.

Kenny smirked but it still looked doll-like, "Normally we would, wouldn't we?"

_He's doing it on purpose. He wants to make my life suck. He's doing everything in his power to—_

"Had any favors done for you recently?"

His heart slammed against his chest.

"Not that I can think of."

Kenny looked between amused and insulted, if that was possible for a doll, "So if I died right now, would that count?"

Kyle's hand clenched and his eyes darted. This situation was too familiar and he could already feel the following morning filled with puffy eyes and resentment.

But he didn't move to stop it, only let out a dignified expression of disapproval while Kenny stood and put his hand in the garbage disposal.

Kyle really didn't like the sound of meat grinding. Or the hitting of bone.

Kenny looked over his hand thoughtfully, noting halfheartedly that it was, like many of the other crazy things he'd done this month, so painful he wanted to die just so the pain would fade for just a moment.

So Kenny lazily leaned down and fished out a trash bag from the cupboard under the sink with his good hand and held the bag around his head until he died of suffocation.

And Kyle began to feel like the doll. Kenny was dead. _Again_.

_Again…?_

Kenny was dead and he hadn't even twitched to stop it. Was he scared that he hadn't stopped…? No, he wanted Kenny dead. He was probably just scared that he felt the extreme urge to stop it.

Scenarios screamed through his vision of rushing forward and holding him back, of holding him until he couldn't leave anymore, until he stopped his vengeful campaign and sank back into Kyle's arms.

Wild realities where he cried for Kenny to stop and said words that had long since died on his tongue.

That bastard wouldn't get away with this.

The tears that stung so painfully were, of course, bitter resentment.

-11. Guest

The visit was unexpected. It was nearing the end of January and Kyle was wondering why he'd spent the last two days unable to stomach food, particularly ground meat, and as usual for recently, he felt the need to beat the shit out of Kenny. He was sure it was that little bastard's fault.

He expected anyone else when he opened the front door. Stan, Kenny, one of Ike's friends… anyone but the cocky bastard standing outside his door.

"'Sup Jewfag."

Kyle felt faint. He hadn't seen the teen in front of him since he was eleven but he'd never forget those evil eyes and demented nicknames. Fucking bigoted douchebag…

Eric Cartman cackled at Kyle's shock and decided it was well worth it to ensure no one saw him coming. It was definitely amusing to watch Kyle gape like a fish. Ah, the little things were what he lived for.

The door suddenly slammed and locked and Eric giggled while pulling out the house key. It paid to be evil.

Door open and Kyle now halfway up the stairs, Eric mocked hurt, "Is that how you treat a childhood friend after years of absence?"

"How did you get inside?" He'd missed that accusatory tone, really, he had. His old friend was fantastic at drawing forth a no-nonsense give-me-answers voice. He was equally skilled at dodging answers.

Eric tutted, "Trade secret, can't divulge to dirty Jews."

"Don't belittle my people fatass!" Kyle was down stairs in seconds and ready to kick the other boy's ass.

Eric, remembering that Kyle's hits hurt _a lot_ , decided to get on topic, "I'm going to be staying for a few weeks because of my mum's work. Thought I'd drop by to say hello."

_And scare the crap out of you._

Kyle's brow twitched in irritation, "Couldn't you have visited someone who _wanted_ to see you? I'm sure Stan would… tolerate you or some shit like that!"

Eric snickered and made his way to the kitchen leisurely, "And let the hippie warn you? Pff, then where would I get my kicks?"

Kyle blinked, pausing before he could begin another tirade. Cartman seemed different than he remembered, more… mature somehow… he hadn't commented on the fatass accusation, he hadn't done anything particularly cruel or unusual, and he wasn't ripping on Kyle's heritage with any real spite to his voice.

As Kyle lacked a certain faith in humanity(or more particularly a faith in the spawn of evil before him) his immediate explanation was that Cartman must be up to something.

Any second now he was going to release a gas that'd knock him unconscious and drag him to a secret hideout where he'd torture him for information on Jew gold or something equally stupid.

Instead Eric stole some Cheesy Poofs from the cupboard and sat at the island table, "So how are Stan and Kenny? Still alive?" Eric seemed to find something funny about the statement.

Kyle brows crinkled, "…so far as I know." A moment and Kyle considered Kenny, "Regretfully."

Eric's eyebrows shot to his hairline and Kyle instantly regretted saying the last part aloud, "Regretfully?"

Kyle hesitated; it was a really bad idea to tell Cartman anything. It always was and always would be.

But he couldn't stop himself from speaking, Stan didn't understand and no one would listen to him and everyone thought he was being ridiculous.

"Fucking Kenny should just die already." Kyle ground out with more rage than he'd thought the matter had deserved. Wasn't that just a half-baked thought on how it would be better if Kenny were gone? Since when had he grown so passionate on the matter?

Eric seemed torn between amusement and confusion, eventually he settled on chuckling at a seemingly inside joke and urging Kyle to continue, "Did po' boy steal your Jew gold or something?"

What had Kenny done to deserve his hatred?

He settled for the list he was able to understand, "He breathes. He's annoying. He's stupid and perverted and dirty and disgusting!"

Kyle wondered if he meant it or not. Was that why he hated Kenny? Just Kenny's existence pissed him off?

Eric suddenly found it less funny.

"…Jewrat…" Kyle glared at the address, "Did you…" he collected himself, "Did you tell him to die?"

Kyle groused, "Of course no—"

_"Just fucking die already!"_

Had he really told Kenny to die? That seemed like something fucking Cartman would do, sure he wanted Kenny gone but it wasn't like Kenny had actually _done_ anything.

_Yes he has! That spiteful—_

Eric cut through his thoughts, "I seriously thought you weren't this much of a fucking Jew."

Was Eric fucking _Cartman_ disappointed in him? And for an _understandable_ reason? (he put aside the fact that the fatass was, again, using his heritage as the ultimate insult for the moment at least)

It struck harder than any of Stan's blows or disappointed looks.

Kyle couldn't even retort before Eric walked out the kitchen door and tossed the house key behind him (keeping the Cheesy Poofs of course), "You'd better fucking hope you're not that big of a Jew."

-12. Friend

_Kenny McCormick died on a regular basis. It was a fact to Eric. He'd seen gory death after gory death for as long as he could remember and he'd taken to using the deaths to his advantage. If he could get better eyes, well it's not like Kenny's corpse could care. If he wanted to end his life, it wouldn't matter because Kenny would be back later no matter what._

_It was perhaps because of this that he thought so flippantly of life. Kenny died all the time so what did it matter if random citizens died. Death was just an everyday thing._

_Eric had always figured everyone knew about Kenny's… 'gift' but no one gave a fuck because Kenny was too poor to matter._

_It wasn't till his tenth birthday that he realized that while a few people knew, Kyle and Stan were completely clueless. It was information he of course used to his advantage, manipulating the boy's and their emotions. It was around this time that Kenny realized Eric knew._

_Something to do with killing him too often nowadays and rarely for the usual reasons._

_To be clear, Eric disliked Kenny a great deal. Despite being poor as fuck Kenny looking down on him for being friendless and cruel. Kenny_ pitied _him._

 _Eric liked pity only so long as it got him things. When Kenny died and left him a PSP out of pity? That was pretty cool. When Kenny gave him a look of humoring understanding and patted his shoulder_ that _pissed him off enough to murder the poor fuck._

_It didn't stop Kenny though._

_Nothing could. Kenny was an undead monster that would look at him with pity and understanding and remained his friend despite hating him a great deal._

_But the look on Kenny's face when he realized Eric knew._

_It wasn't hurt or anger or relief or anything that Eric thought would make sense. It was a little fear but mostly dry irony._

_"Of course you would know."_

_And they didn't say much more on the matter but Eric, for the first time in his life, was curious as to how and why Kenny died and resurrected. Eric wanted to know about Kenny._

_For the first time in his life Eric went about making a friend._

_It was a fucked up friendship, Eric would do things to gain trust (they never_ really _worked) and lure Kenny out and he'd kill him or interrogate him or whatever plot he had._

_Kenny seemed amused._

_It was around this time that Eric actually began to care about a being outside himself. It wasn't much but he felt an actual displeasure at the horrible things in Kenny's life. A mild discomfort._

_Kenny came over once covered in blood and Eric actually cared a bit that most of it was his own._

_It was the usual story. Parents fighting, siblings beaten, house wrecked. Eric never cared much for the story. That was what being poor was anyways, right?_

_What disturbed him was Kenny's expression. The broken little smile and the almost tears building in his eyes._

_It was then that Eric learned of Kenny's only fear. Pain was something he wasn't fond of and liked to avoid, death was just another part of living, monsters were a regular occurrence, becoming a drunken hick was solely dependent on how hard he wanted to try and avoid it._

_Kenny feared being unwanted. Maybe it was due to no one ever being aware of his deaths, maybe it was because_ wasn't _wanted and all that was left was for him to be directly unwanted. Maybe he felt his existence would mean nothing if people wanted him gone. They didn't need to want him there so long as they didn't want him gone._

_His sister wanted him around but he couldn't protect her, not really, and it was only a matter of time before she realized her brother was just a mortal (although ironically also an immortal) and she would denounce his worth as well._

_Eric, of course, used this information in a get rich scheme that had oddly worked and since it hadn't rooted in his normal anti-Semitism or bigotry, his Broflovski nemesis hadn't foiled his plans. Within three months he and his mother moved to California._

_On his eleventh birthday, shortly before he was to leave, he actually found the need to apologize to Kenny for using him. His fears, abuse, death, his being was just tool and the thought curdled in Eric's stomach._

_Kenny had frozen, and then laughed, and then looked nauseous, laughed again, looked at the sky for frogs, and finally confessed that while he didn't like Eric and he'd probably never forgive him for eating the skin off of the KFC the year before last, Eric wouldn't be Eric if he wasn't an evil douchebag that would use and abuse his friends thoughtlessly for profit and personal enjoyment._

_So Eric kept it to himself that he actually regretted it just a little and secretly he wished that they could become better friends. Instead he spread nasty rumors about Kenny for old time's sake and received the full force of Kenny's dislike and sympathetic eye roll that just screamed pity._

_It was just how their 'friendship' worked._

_Something he'd realized about Kenny though was that he was very dependent on being with his friends. His parents didn't want him. He didn't want to confess to it but they didn't want him there. One more mouth to feed. Sometimes his mother wanted him, sometimes his father wanted him, sometimes his siblings wanted him, but it was entirely inconsistent and the greater portion of time was spent being an inconvenience._

_Kenny relied on the friendship the four shared to feel that his existence had some value. Even if the only friend that paid enough attention to him to notice his constant death was an evil selfish bastard. Even if he wasn't particularly liked. At least he wasn't unwanted._

-13. Smile

Perhaps the sight of true evil had kick-started Kyle's conscious. Perhaps the realization that wishing death upon the relatively innocent was something Cartman did, not him was what caused his nausea.

He was sure Kenny had done something. He was sure Kenny deserved it. He was sure Kenny was evil and annoying and stupid and a whore and this was plenty enough reasons not to want to hang out with the prick.

He was _sure_ and he wasn't about to take it back. He knew he was right.

 _But_ , just maybe a _tiny_ bit, the thought that _maybe_ Kenny _didn't_ deserve it is why the heartbreak in Kenny's horrid eyes made sense.

Kenny, despite being annoying and cocky and wearing this _knowing_ smile that just _infuriated_ him… hadn't done anything to be told to go die.

He'd just been sent to his death by one of his best friends.

But Kyle knew he was right. He couldn't be wrong.

He wanted to heave when he recalled the _hurt_ that flashed across his face before that bitter little smile…

_…was it bitter or heartbroken?_

Kyle really tried to shake the thought.

Kenny should just die.

-14. Perfection

"Fucking Jewrat…" Eric muttered darkly as he walked down the street towards the McCormick residence. He'd hoped to avoid going to the poor side of town if possible and he'd wanted to visit Stan before seeing Kenny, just for the sake of going in order of distance. Now he was going to have to walk _extra_. And it was all Kahl's fault!

He'd been enjoying his Sunday. Really. He was in South Park for the first time in six years and already he'd scared his former nemesis. He was going to leisurely enjoy his trip and maybe cause some havoc, just to shake things up.

The last thing he wanted to deal with was his pussy-ass friends being total losers.

The yard hadn't changed much at all and Eric had to raise a careful brow at the stack of boxes that he was sure had been sitting next to the tires the _last_ time he was here. Really couldn't they just throw some of the shit away if it was just going to get weather torn?

The front door opening and closing distracted Eric from his displeasure and the sight before him startled him just a bit, Kenny McCormick was grinning cheerily with a noose thrown over his shoulder and making his way down the street, not even sparing a glance at the gawking teenager on his lawn. He was about to call out to him when Kenny flipped out a cell phone that Eric was sure he'd stolen (it was a hobby).

Dialing a number by heart, Kenny's cold voice replied to the irritated one in the receiver.

"Gonna hang myself from a bridge. Enjoy your lunch!"

Eric gaped as Kenny flipped the phone shut in a manner that could only be interpreted as 'fuck you'.

"Kinny?"

Kenny whirled, unaware anyone had been watching him, "Who the fuck ar—" Kenny stopped.

Eric rolled his eyes and waited impatiently for Kenny to come to his master deduction on the identity of the culprit.

"Dude, what the fuck are you doing here?"

Okay, not the open arms sort of welcome but Eric could live with that; he had a bit more pressing matters.

"'Hang yourself from a bridge'?" the skepticism in Eric's voice could have killed a puppy.

Kenny looked like a child with his hand caught in the jar for a moment but it quickly changed to a look that honestly scared Eric a bit.

The wry smile, the cold eyes, the bitter and broken pieces…

…there was more to the story than being unwanted.

"Wanna watch?"

The nonchalant way he asked almost made Eric nauseous and it was only then he realized how used to life mattering he had become. He wouldn't have thought anything of this six years ago.

Six years ago he was still a child with too much energy and cruelty and no understanding of humanity beyond the one he needed for manipulations.

Had he grown up?

Eric didn't like that. He liked to think he'd always been perfect in every way and any changes over years were just minor _adjustments_ of perfection.

But he knew he couldn't just tell Kenny no. Kenny was leaving him an opening and he needed to weedle his way in so that he could figure out what was going on.

"Are Jews greedy?"

-15. Chat

The bridge was cold.

And Kenny was swaying back and forth over the ledge, face purple and sarcastic smile still adorning his lips.

Cartman was sitting close to where Kenny hung, almost as if they'd had a good little chat before Kenny had decided it was time to hop down as brazenly as he would from a swing at the park.

Kyle felt sick. It wasn't the first time he felt sick because of Kenny. He foggily remembered throwing up because of him only a few days prior. He just couldn't remember why.

"Remind me again why Kinny should die?"

Kyle snapped to attention, suddenly aware of two angry brown eyes burrowing into his skull.

If he didn't know better he'd say Cartman was actually upset over Kenny's death.

He knew better.

Cartman most likely wanted something out of this situation.

So Kyle didn't need to dignify him with an answer.

"Are you even upset?"

Of course he wasn't upset. Kenny should just disappear.

Of course he was upset. Kenny just committed suicide because he asked him to.

_Open your eyes and see me dead. Just like you wanted._

The text he couldn't comprehend. He was sure it had been sent shortly before Kenny's strangulation because he'd almost arrived at the bridge when his phone beeped.

He wasn't angry anymore. He was tired of being angry. He should beat Kenny up for putting him through this.

It hit him like a ton of bricks and suddenly everything else seemed strange and everything he'd said and done recently seemed completely absurd.

Kenneth McCormick was _dead_.

He was hanging with a tragic smile and broken eyes dancing deafly in the sunlight.

Kenny was gone.

He wasn't coming back.

Why did Kyle even feel like he would? It was ridiculous think that.

Kenny wasn't going to be waiting at the bus stop making bad innuendo anymore.

Kenny was dead.

For the first time in the past few weeks Kyle felt tears build in his eyes that he couldn't root in anger or frustration or hatred.

He didn't know why his heart ached.

Why had he wished Kenny away?

Why did he hate Kenny so much? Why did Kenny's presence make him so frustrated and nervous and scared? Why did his heart pick up and his face flush and his anger spike?

Why had he swallowed his words and why hadn't he held the boy back?

Why did the thought of getting rid of Kenny seem absolutely ludicrous now? Almost masochistic?

Had he ever enjoyed the thought? He had, he definitely had thought things would be better without the silly little sniggers and tiny mischief that the dead boy brought into his life. He'd definitely felt victorious seeing him perish.

Like it was a shallow battle to win. Like it didn't actually matter if Kenny died.

…when had he become so similar to the person he hated most in the world?

Cartman leveled him with a withering look, completely apathetic to the tears now escaping the confines of his shit green eyes. This can't be the first time Kenny has done this. Kenny only gets creative with death if he's getting bored. It was more likely for Kenny to jump in front of the bus or shoot himself.

And Kenny looked a little too exhausted for this to be the first round.

"Pray tell, Kahl, why do you think he should be hanging there instead of playing videogames with you and Stan?"

The nausea attacked full force and Kyle used some serious self control to resist vomiting.

Was Eric fucking Cartman seriously giving him a lecture on right and wrong?

Was Kenny seriously dead?

"Because he pisses me off!" Kyle's voice broke in a way that he even found himself a bad source of information, "He just keeps disappearing all the fucking time! If he hates us so much he should just leave for good!"

That didn't sound right.

It was scary. Scary to think he might not come back.

Cartman seemed to catch on to something that Kyle hadn't. Kyle knew that he'd somehow given the fat bastard what he wanted and he instantly hated that.

The disbelieving look of complete and utter bemusement was enough to make Kyle want to join Kenny in hanging.

"You're in love with the poor bastard!"

Kyle did a double take.

" _What_?"

Cartman's amusement was growing by the second, "Oh my god, you have abandonment issues!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, fattass?!" Cartman didn't bother explaining and instead chose to snicker.

"You unbelievable pussy! Fuck, and I thought I was a fucking asshole! At least I never picked on my crush!" Eric burst into peels of laughter before considering a new option, "Dude! Killing Kinny is totally the equivalent of tugging on girls pigtails!"

Kyle failed to see the comparison.

Eric wiped a mirthful tear from his eye, "Oh this is beautiful." He sighed contently, satisfied to have sufficiently solved the mystery (minus some key details) before getting to his feet and cracking his knuckles.

"As amusing as that is, as Kinny's honorary BFF," Eric brandished a half-heart necklace that Kyle hadn't noticed previously, "I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you for tugging at his metaphorical pigtails."

Normally Kyle wouldn't have been intimidated that _Cartman_ of all people was threatening to beat him up. He was a wimpy, annoying, self-centered crybaby.

But Kyle was seriously run for a loop right now and nothing Cartman was saying was making any sense and Kenny was still just _hanging_ down there and something in Cartman's normally heartless eyes seemed to gleam with righteous vengeance.

So yeah, Kyle was intimidated by Cartman for the moment. His only hope of defiance being the pounding of his heart in his ears.

-16. Right

Unlike his fight with Stan, Kyle was able to hold a bit more satisfaction over ensuring his opponent pain. It was somehow difficult for him to enjoy his best friend's pain, even if his friend was being a jerk.

The problem was that Cartman was quite the fighter himself when he put his mind to it. And Kyle couldn't put his finger on it but he felt that he might have _deserved_ it. Which was ludicrous when one considers that it was _Cartman_ kicking his ass.

No matter. It was Monday morning and he was covered in bruises and Stan was worried. Kenny looked… confused. Lost almost.

"Jesus! Who did this to you?" Stan looked over the black eye, seeming to hope that if he just observed it enough it would either heal or grow lips and tell him the culprit.

Kyle grumbled, refusing to look at Kenny, "Cartman."

Stan was thrown, "Wait, Eric Cartman? Moved away in sixth grade? Tormented your childhood Cartman?"

Kyle rolled his eyes, "The same. His mom's here on business or something."

Kenny's genuinely confused voice piped in, "Why did Cartman beat you up?"

Why did he…? Wasn't it because…

Kyle blinked and took his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his texts. He didn't notice the big figure creeping up from behind Stan.

Neither did Stan, which is precisely why he screamed like a girl when a large hand covered his eyes and a familiar voice greeted him, "Guess who?"

Kyle jumped out of his skin at Stan's scream and dropped his phone, "What the fuck?"

Cartman grinned deviously from behind Stan, his own black eye gleaming righteously in the sunlight.

_That lousy…_

"Who's there? Dude not cool! Kyle! Kenny! Who's behind me?"

The chuckle wasn't expected. Kyle had never known Cartman to act so calmly unless he was up to true evil.

"Think _really_ hard and I'm sure you'll find out who."

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Stan, it's a pedophile, use self defense against him."

" _What_?"

Kyle wasn't sure which of the voices sounded more scandalized.

He was going to bet on Stan, because Cartman looked secretly amused with the comment as he withdrew from the panicking boy and leaned down to pick up Kyle's phone, "Buttefingers," Cartman quipped halfheartedly before snickering at an inside joke.

Kyle was pretty sure he could guess the joke.

"Listen you assho—"

"Cartman!" Stan's cry was somewhere between happiness and apprehension. While it was nice to see a childhood friend, there was a reason he wasn't _completely_ sorry to bid this one goodbye.

Cartman _ruffled Stan's hair_ with another snigger, "'Sup hippie loser, still emo?"

And that was all Kyle paid attention to their little catch up chat, too disturbed with Cartman's change in behavior, and brought his eyes to the fourth member of the group.

Kyle's stomach dropped.

Kenny was looking at him humorlessly. A bit of malice shown through and Kyle thought that the emotion should comfort him but it didn't. It scared him.

"Did you have fun yesterday?"

Kyle clenched his fist at the question, he still couldn't place his irritation with the situation but he knew that Kenny…

…Kenny was Kenny…

Kyle felt tears build for reasons that he couldn't comprehend and quickly blinked them back before they were noticed. It was too late; a sick smile grew onto Kenny's already pale face.

Why did his face look so pale?

Kyle eyed the phone Cartman had handed him.

_Open your eyes and see me dead._

Kyle blinked, when had this text arrived? Who…?

_Just like you wanted._

_"Just fucking die already!"_

Kyle's eyes shot to Kenny who was now digging through his pockets.

 _No_.

_"Wish granted."_

_"Fuck you."_

Kyle tasted his breakfast but didn't waste time and instead grabbed both of Kenny's arms.

"What are yo—"

"Shut up!"

He couldn't talk, he didn't know what he could say, his thoughts spiraled and he wondered, not for the first time, why things couldn't just make sense.

Kenny glared defiantly, "Why the fuck should I?"

"Because I said so!" Kyle seriously hoped there was nothing too dangerous in the pockets today.

Kenny head-butted him.

The shock of the action loosened his grip enough for Kenny to pull away.

Stan was at his side in seconds, "What's up with you lately? Why are you sudden—"

Kyle saw something metallic almost out of Kenny's pocket.

What was he even doing? Why did he feel so much dread at Kenny's pockets? Why did he remember stupid Cartman's laughter so vividly?

Two ideas clashed in his mind. The nightmares of death and gripping so hard that every last breath drained way. The daydreams of holding on for dear life because life _was dear damnit_ and he wanted... he wanted...

Kyle lunged before he thought and tackled the blond to the snow, causing the razor to fall to their left. Kenny blinked up at Kyle with puzzlement before his expression morphed into a hateful glare, "What the fuck?"

"No!"

Stan looked about to intervene when Cartman held him back, muttering something along the lines of "Dude, this is gonna be hilarious…" under his breath.

It was a moment, but the confusion had torn the broken out of Kenny's eyes.

He didn't want them to be broken. He didn't want anything to be broken. It just hurt. Everything hurt.

Kenny clenched fist-full of Kyle's jacket, ready to use it as leverage to smash in his opponents skull, for now he just used to invade his personal space with a sneer, "'No' what? What the fuck are you doing?"

It occurred vaguely that if Kenny wasn't making jokes about their current position he _had_ to be tired. He didn't know why that thought made him feel so guilty. Why did their position matter?

Kyle tried to focus on Kenny's question but his eyes kept darting to the lost razor and he struggled to find words.

"You fucking selfish asshole! Stop dying damnit!"

He found anger instead.

Kyle wasn't sure why that made so much sense for the situation.

Kenny just stared back at him as if he'd grown a new head.

Cartman looked like he would greatly enjoy some popcorn.

Stan hadn't the foggiest clue what they were talking about.

Tears built in his eyes and Kyle decided that after this there would be no more pussy-ass crying. He'd done far too much of it in the past month.

Anger. He was back to anger. He liked anger, it was familiar and pleasant. He fixed Kenny with his best no-nonsense I'm-really-angry-now look.

"You're the one who asked me to!" Kenny snarled, struggling against the Kyle's hold, "Wish fucking granted! You're getting everything you fucking want!" _everything you deserve_! echoed unspoken in Kenny's wretched face.

" _No I'm not_!" Kyle resisted the urge to punch him. With some shock he realized the thought of punching the boy, even while swelled in anger like this, stung like a fresh and gaping wound.

Kenny looked the most alive he'd looked in awhile. Hair glistening in the sun, eyes full of confusion and anger and so much hurt, angry words escaping his lips bitterly, Kenny was glaring at him defiantly, but not hatefully.

Kyle decided he liked this Kenny a lot more. And he hated to see hate in Kenny's eyes.

Kyle decided he hated when Kenny went away.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cartman was right.

-17. Confession

_Two months. For two months Kyle had been receiving letters from a mysterious admirer. He hadn't told anyone, dreading his friends might make fun, but he'd enjoyed them._

_It was flattering, in a way, to receive a nice letter that spoke of nice things._

_He wanted to guess at the sender but he hadn't quite decided if it was a prank or not._

_He wanted to think it wasn't, it made some lonely moments a bit more bearable. Stan was normally busy with his extensive social life, Ike didn't want to spend a lot of time with his 'grandpa' older brother, and Kenny had a tendency to disappear for months on end without a word of context._

_It didn't use to bother him so much._

_He'd never liked the way Kenny would up run off for god knows what for god knows how long. He could vaguely remember a few times in his childhood hitting him particularly hard._

_It was one of those things he'd hoped the guy would grow out of. He liked spending time with Kenny. It just sucked when he'd work hard to make plans and suddenly they were short one because Kenny might as well be dead for all he was there._

_It got annoying._

_When he asked Kenny about it he'd just get morbid jokes or sarcastic remarks._

_He liked to think that if his secret admirer came forward they could at least be good friends. He could honestly use a good dependable friend. At this rate he almost missed the fatass._

_It was a good day today though, he'd received a new letter and Kenny actually had time to hang out today. Stan, of course, had a date._

_It wasn't like they'd come to the overpass for any particular reason but here they were, commenting on the traffic below and the chill and Kenny just wanted to show him something in his backpack--_

_Whatever it was that Kenny was reaching for was forgotten by both boys as the half-written letter got knocked out of the bag in Kenny's haste._

_Kenny reached for it but it was too late. He'd seen the familiar handwriting and the guilt and fear on Kenny's face filled in the details._

_Kyle's blood ran cold with rage._

_A prank._

_He could have handled it as a prank from a stranger. Or maybe even Stan. Or just... anyone else._

_Not Kenny._

_Fucking Kenny._

_Stupid, poor, ugly, dirty, cruel Kenny._

_Kenny had been rather close to Cartman once upon a time, hadn't he._

_Guess the cruelty must have rubbed off. Go figure._

_Kenny lied. Kenny sent Kyle letters to-to-he couldn't figure out a purpose. It was just a harmless prank. It should be just a harmless prank._

_He didn't have feelings for the mysterious admirer and he'd always been ready for it to be a joke at his expense, why did he feel so betrayed now?_

_"How_ dare _you."_

_His voice was icy and Kenny flinched back, "I just--"_

_"You just what?" Kyle sneered and narrowed his eyes at the guy he_ had _called a friend._

_Kenny squared himself, fighting an internal dialogue and looking Kyle square in the face, "I just thought it'd be funny."_

_"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"_

_"Nothing is wrong with me, asshole! It was just a prank, get over it!" Kenny shot back, "It's not like you actually_ liked _your 'secret admirer'!"_

_"Of course I didn't!" Kenny coiled in on himself like he'd been stung, "But that's not the fucking point, you broke my trust!"_

_"Really? You trust me? That's rich! You refuse to let me have any responsibilities when we're planning events, don't think I haven't noticed! You don't think I can take care of shit! Hell, half the time you don't even bother inviting me anymore!"_

_"Why would I trust someone to get shit done that is_ never there _?! You're too fucking busy getting high or whatever the fuck it is you do when you disappear to take care of anything!"_

_Kenny ground his teeth so loudly Kyle would swear he heard it, frustration and rage flittering across his face, "I'm not getting high."_

_Kyle scoffed, "Then what the fuck are you doing? Picking daisies?"_

_"...more like pushing them." Kenny muttered, half to himself._

_The rage in Kyle sparked again, "There you go again with your fucking morbid humor! It's not fucking funny! It's never been funny! Just stop joking about death or fucking do something about it!"_

_Kenny looked like he'd been physically struck but still managed to speak, "Oh, yeah. because that would work so great in your favor. Don't have to deal with stupid Kenny anymore, he's six feet deep and thank Cthulu for that!"_

_Kyle was tired and done with this argument. He knew from experience that the stupid death jokes weren't going to stop once they started. Kenny was the one that tricked him. Kenny was the one in the wrong. Why was he acting like Kyle had said something wrong?_

_It was sickening. Kenny was sickening. If he wanted to disappear forever he should just fucking get it over with._

_"Would you just die already? Save the world the trouble of seeing your goddamn breathing?"_

_It wasn't what he said so much as the cool tone of his voice he used. The strange honesty ringing out into the world. Like a confession._

-18. Want

It was funny because while he couldn't comprehend why or how, Kyle seemed to know from the beginning that killing wouldn't do jack shit to Kenny. This was probably why both Kyle and Stan took Kenny's death so lightly normally, perhaps on some subconscious level they knew.

It just hadn't reached consciousness.

Eric gripped Stan's shoulder before the boy could interfere, obviously concerned with his two friend looking about ready to pound each other at any given second. Eric snickered at the potential double entendre and decided that he agreed with both possibilities.

Kenny spit at Kyle's face, obviously done with their little 'spat' and quite ready to run away from this situation as fast as possible, even if running away essentially meant death.

Kyle didn't even bother responding to the taunt and instead chose to grab the razor and tossed it farther away from the two of them, knowing that Kenny had been eyeing it.

The look on Kenny's face spoke as if that was a personal challenge to get creative and Kyle's gut churned at the thought.

He realized why he couldn't stand the thought of Kenny writing the damn letters.

Anyone else and he could appreciate it as a compliment. Anyone else and he could appreciate it as a prank.

If Kenny was writing them, maybe he'd noticed what Kyle hadn't. Maybe he was mocking his feelings. Maybe he knew exactly how much it hurt when the orange clad jerk left on a moments notice and he was mocking him.

Maybe Kenny left so much because he couldn't stand the way Kyle looked at him.

Not in their current feud, icy rage and broken trust, but back when he felt his expression loosen when the muffled voice would reach his ears, or the way he'd sometimes wonder if it was normal to want to touch your friend this much.

They held hands a lot as kids. Hugged or fought or wrestled. All four of them had a long history of physical connections.

Of course as they grew and changed and matured those sorts of things would decrease.

So why did he still want to hold Kenny's hand?

He told himself it was because he didn't get as many hugs from his mom, she wanted to respect his need for space, or that Ike was growing distant. Platonic physical touch.

He told himself a lot of things.

But he wanted to hug Kenny.

And the stupid fatass had noticed why before he had.

He _wanted_ Kenny to _stay_.

"Damnit Kenny!"

The voice didn't match the animosity that had been running between the two of late and Kenny derailed his inner debate for a creative death.

"Why'd you write those stupid letters?!"

Kenny froze completely. In one instant seeming to realize that Kyle was straddling him and he was gripping the front of his jacket. He stilled so suddenly in his squirming attempts to either escape or berate that he hardly seemed to breathe.

"I told you, it was a joke." his voice was flat but regret colored the tones.

Kyle bit back the anger, if he wanted to stop Kenny he couldn't get angry. That only seemed to hasten Kenny towards... towards whatever it was Kenny wanted to do with that razor.

Communication was his only option.

"Well, it wasn't funny and-" he couldn't find the right words to describe it, he settled on something that could be easily understood, "-it hurt my feelings that you'd do that. Why would you do that?"

They either didn't hear or completely ignored the way Cartman guffawed at this.

Kenny looked passed Kyle's shoulder, "I thought it'd be funny."

It occurred to Kyle that there was something strangely dodgy about his responses, "I didn't... I wasn't romantically interested in the whole thing so why continue? You knew, you said so yourself, that I didn't like them, so what was the point of continuing?"

Kenny rolled his eyes, "I guess I'm just not that funny, okay?"

Another realization puzzled him as he observed his prisoner.

"...how did you know I didn't like the admirer? I never told you about the letters. I didn't even tell Stan about the letters."

"If you did, you would have."

"You're awfully sure of that. What if I just didn't want Stan to tease me about a crush?"

"I don't know, okay! It was a guess! I figured you wouldn't lik-- I just knew, okay?!"

"So you _did_ know I liked you!"

"Yeah, sur-- _What._ "

Kyle felt the old rage grow but tried to repress it, "It was really shitty of you to respond that way just because you knew, you know! You could have just ignored it, it wasn't like I was asking for anything!"

Kenny looked so bewildered that the two of them could almost hear Cartman's cackles and Stan's confusion, but Kyle figured the expression was something to do with Kenny's shock that he'd seen through the entirety of Kenny's shitty prank. Little asshole thought he was _so_ clever.

"Just because you knew--" Kyle pretended his voice didn't break at all, "--and you just, keep fucking _disappearing_ , all the time! For no goddamn reason! And you'll never give me a straight answer! I realize you don't give a fuck about any of us and you _clearly_ don't want to be around me, but you didn't have to be such a fucking _asshole_ about it!"

"Wait, Kyle, slow down, I think I missed a step, what the actual fuck. Slow the fuck down. Wait. Can someone please rewind him?"

Kyle glared with renewed ferocity, "Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! This is all your shitty revenge because I had a stupid crush. First the fucking letters, then the fucking glares, then--" he tried and failed not to look at the razor still resting on the ground, "--the other shit, I don't even know, you just--you suck! You fucking suck, Kenny!"

"You fucking told me to kill myself, _several times_ , who the fuck does that?! You told me to fucking _die_ , you stupid prick and you _meant_ it and I'm the bad guy because I wrote some stupid fucking letters?! And I didn't know about--I mean--you--..."

Something in Kenny's temper died down and he looked much smaller than normal, that sort of discomfort that shrinks a person, the unease of the unknown and the feared, and Kyle felt some of his righteous anger fade in response.

"...what do you mean crush..."

It was barely a whisper and Kenny wasn't looking at him. It was so strange, for the past month Kenny had been looking directly at him with a deranged look that didn't quite see and now the boy was...

Kyle felt a horrible feeling rise out of his mind, his own voice trailing into an uneasy quiet that completely juxtaposed their earlier arguments, "...didn't you... know...?"

Something that sounded foggily like 'oh my god, these fucking fags' and a bus driving away entered Kyle's mind and was immediately disregarded as irrelevant background noise as Kenny's grip was no long on his collar and he felt like he should get off but he still hadn't quite forgotten about the razor.

Kenny chanced a glance at his face and Kyle no longer felt like he understood the situation at all.

He tried to list the things he did know.

Kenny had pulled a useless prank for... some reason. Because it was funny?

He told Kenny to kill himself and he... had? Or hadn't? Kyle couldn't quite understand this point, but he knew that as out of line as his request had been, Kenny had done _something_ in retaliation.

And now he was trying to stop the something and he'd told Kenny why he was mad assuming that Kenny had already known and...

"Oh my god, you didn't know."

Kyle scrambled to his feet in absolute horror, eyes fixed in horror at the orange clad boy slowly and shakily standing up as well.

"I didn't." Kenny responded. It was simple but honest.

Honest.

Kyle gulped, "I-I... I didn't want you to die." he looked away, "Okay, I did, but not really. It's hard to explain. I just..." he couldn't put it into words, "...I was angry, I thought you..."

Kenny still wasn't looking at him, "I didn't."

"Ah..."

How did one fill the feud that had broken the trust between them?

"You hit me really hard in the cafeteria, you know..."

Kyle snapped to attention, he remembered doing that, it was when Kenny looked like he was going to--

"I..." there wasn't an excuse. It was done. It was done in anger. Kenny had hit him as well, it was a fight on rather equal footing, but normally scuffles between the boys didn't have hits like that.

Ones that resounded and cracked and _broke_. Like you really hated your opponent.

"I know." it was all he could say. An apology was too hallow. And he didn't even know if he meant it.

He couldn't remember when he last felt sane in regards to Kenny. It was all... too much.

"So you really did just write those letters because you thought it'd be funny." he didn't know if that hurt more or less, every part of him felt sore at this point. Emotionally and physically he was drained. "I, uh, still don't get the joke and it wasn't funny but... I may have over-reacted. I just..."

Wanted you to stop disappearing.

Hated how I felt.

Wanted to pretend we could be friends forever.

Felt betrayed.

Hated your morbid jokes because it sounds like you _want_ to die and that hurts.

...thought you hated me.

There were so many painfully honest ways to finish his sentence. They all died on his tongue.

"I got caught up in my own bullshit and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

Kenny's shoulders were squared but small, like something used to being kicked down trying to look confident. There was none of his normal strut, just a frown and a downcast expression.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't... I shouldn't have written those damn letters." Kenny wasn't looking at him, "I--" he swallowed some words visibly, "--thought it'd be funny."

The words struck at Kyle again but he was too exhausted emotionally to respond with his heart, instead his brain took a turn, "You keep saying that. The same words. Over and over. Like a practiced speech."

Kenny shrugged.

Kyle kept pulling at the thread, dreading what he'd find at the end, in all likeliness he'd somehow find something worse than his original suspicions of mockery, but he figured he couldn't hurt any worse.

"You never say _why_ you think it would be funny. You said--in one of your letters--that you" lord, give him strength to continue, "like how I respond to everything fiercely, that you thought it was cool and--" he couldn't do this "--that I push until I get to the truth, no matter what. I know... you didn't mean it and it was just a prank but" why wasn't this easier, "it gave me confidence that I'd kinda lost lately. I was really happy someone thought that about me."

"Just not that it was me that thought that." Kenny looked horrified at his own words, regret and panic pouring over his face like he'd accidentally spilled a terrible secret.

Kyle was genuinely puzzled, "No... I--I'd like it if you thought that... it really hurt to realize that you didn't."

Kenny looked stiffly at the ground, "You were so angry when you saw the letter fall out of my bag."

"...because I knew if it was from you it was definitely a prank and that meant you..."

"Why is it definitely a prank if it's from me?!" the sudden raise in Kenny's voice startled them both.

"You told me it was a prank."

Kenny gained some footing in the argument, was it an argument? Neither of them knew, "You were angry before I said it was a prank! I thought if I said it was a prank you'd calm down!"

"Why would that calm me down?! And why are you talking like it wasn't a prank!?"

Kenny visibly flinched back, "I'm just--I'm just saying that you were angry before you knew that--so clearly you wouldn't want someone like me to write the letters--and--you--you told me--"

Kenny didn't finish his sentence but they both knew the words between them.

It couldn't be undone or unsaid. The last month had hurt them both. There was a cruelty and trust had been shattered into unrecognizable pieces.

Kyle was the first to break the silence, eyes fixedly locked onto a patch of the ground so he wouldn't have to see the inevitable rejection he probably deserved at this point, "I... I like your smile. We don't see it much without your hood but your eyes crinkle up and it's cute. I can't be grumpy around you, most of the time, I have a bad temper and I can get caught up in these moods and you make me happy just... being there. Sometimes when you disappear I'll want to text you or hang out and you're just not there, there's no explanation, there's no meaning and you never give me a straight answer. And you always come back like nothing happened and I want to be upset but then you make a stupid joke that isn't even funny but I end up laughing because your damn laughter is contagious and..." his head spun, he didn't want to think about all he'd just said, why was this so hard, "...and you always weirdly have your priorities straight in the strangest ways and sometimes I feel like I can't catch up, like there's so much of you that you won't share with me because you---" don't like me "--don't want to I guess and I... didn't want to hurt our friendship and now I think I've destroyed it."

He vaguely acknowledged that the peanut gallery must have wandered off, no way Stan would let him get away with a speech that long without at least a groan.

Panic suddenly welled in him as he realized that he wasn't watching Kenny and what if the boy had used the chance to grab the razor--terrified of two terrible prospects he snapped his gaze to Kenny's.

Heartbroken shards of an emotion still shone in that blue but he was looking at Kyle. Really looking. A searching look. Terrified and untrusting.

Kyle gathered every shard of his own courage, hoping beyond hope that honesty could at least open a dialogue. Maybe they could mend this. Maybe he hadn't lost one of his closest friends in a moment of stupidity and spite.

"I-- I have feelings... of sort of... kind of... romantic... or, I mean, I-" those eyes were still locked on his and as hard as it made it, he couldn't look away, "I like you, Kenny."

It didn't feel like enough. It didn't encapsulate everything. The regret, frustration, the apology, the ferocity of the damn emotion, but... he couldn't think of any other way.

He'd tell the truth.

"I want to be your friend, but I-I... I also don't because it's just..."

Why was he doing all the talking? Why couldn't Kenny just stop him from further embarrassing himself instead of staring?

"I know, you don't feel that way about me, and that's okay, and even though the prank was shitty and tasteless, I realize now you didn't mean it like that... I just, I really over-reacted and I fucked up."

Kyle screwed up his courage.

"Can we... try to fix this? Go back to being friends? I'll try to be more understanding about wherever the hell you keep disappearing to and... why aren't you saying anything?"

Kenny took a moment to find his voice, "Why are you so stupid?"

"Hey--!"

"Why the hell am I so stupid?"

Kenny took an unsteady step towards him, "No, Kyle. I don't think I can forgive you. This... hurt, a lot, and you were so fucking stupid and I..." he took another step, "I'm stupid too, I know, and I'm still so fucking _angry_ at you."

Kenny rose to his full height with the next step.

"Do you have any _idea_ how fucking impossibly hard it is to _hurt_ me, Kyle? Do you think Cartman, despite all his best attempts, has been able to actually _hurt_ me? Or my parents--" he stopped the train, he never sounded terribly comfortable discussing his home troubles, "I'm not an easy person to hurt, Kyle. You say I broke your trust, you broke _mine_ , I _trusted_ you, I--" he stopped himself again but now stood uncomfortably close, "I didn't lie in the damn fucking piece of shit horrible letters. It was true. I thought--I thought it'd be nice for you, to have a secret admirer. It might make you happy. Maybe you'd have some damn confidence in your good points and--"

Another pause. Kyle wasn't quite sure he could breathe at this distance.

"My point is that I trusted you not to _hurt_ me. Not physically. Not emotionally. Not like this. I have a thick skin, damnit, and you have to be trying _really_ hard to get through. And _even then_ I have to have _trusted you with my emotions to begin with you fucking asshole_."

Somewhere in the unspoken words of Kenny's speech, Kyle was starting to piece together a horrifying thought.

"No, I can't forgive you and start over and play nice and 'lets be friends again, Kenny!' Like fucking _hell_ I'm going to trust you of all people with my emotions again, or anything for that matter, you fucked up and you should pay the consequences and accept there are some things you can't fucking fix with that flimsy ass apology, Kyle."

Kyle found words, "Why are you still here then? Or-" he couldn't suppress a grimace at the thought, "-exacting your vengeance."

Kenny looked ready to punch his lights out, " _Why don't you know_? Why are you so fucking _dumb_?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, I wish I knew."

It was something of a lie. He had an idea. It... couldn't actually be true though. Right? That would make all of this just too...

"...stupid."

Kyle thought of a lot of things. He thought until his brain complained and went on a hunger strike. He thought of everything he could in the moments that Kenny just stood there staring at him with so much emotion and most of it was anger and frustration and pain but...

Kyle could only really focus on the thought that haunted him. When he should have held on and never let go. When he should have--should he have? He didn't know.

Kenny's startled gasp sounded almost scared when Kyle closed the gap and wrapped his arms around him.

"What are you--"

Kyle rested his face on Kenny's shoulder, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so dumb."

Kenny didn't struggle, only remained stiff in his arms. It was possibly the most awkward hug Kyle had ever been a part of (and there were some serious contenders) but it was all he could do.

"Kenny..."

"What." the response was stiff, robotically so.

"Could you do me a huge favor and, um," this sounded way better in his head, "grant my request?"

If Kyle thought he was stiff before, the other teenage now felt like a rock and he understood that maybe his phrasing could have used work.

It really had sounded better in his head.

"What." the tone was the same but there were daggers hidden in there.

And he thought he'd used all his courage before, Kyle felt like he was drowning in an ocean of doubt, but he had to ask, he had to, "Could please..."

There was desperation in his voice he didn't even realize had leaked out. Didn't realize he had.

" _Please_... plea--- love me." he actually choked on the words and with complete terror he realized that it was a sob.

He'd started crying.

When had he started crying.

He waited for Kenny's response. It was going to be angry. It was going to be terrible. What kind of asshole was he, asking for something like that after all this?

What was he supposed to do?

Finally there was a shake that was a laugh. Kyle couldn't tell if it was a good or bad one. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Nope. No can do. Not again. Nope, nope, nope, sorry Broflovski. No can--are you crying? Okay, you better be crying, because if you are spitting on my shoulder, I swear to god, I will throw you over a bridge."

"I'm not crying or spitting, I'm just..." he sought for an excuse that spared his manly pride, "I'm wet, okay."

He failed. He failed so fucking bad. He realized it the moment he said it. He could practically _see_ Kenny's expression in his minds eye. Oh god, please let it have gone over Kenny's head.

"Well, that's rather forward of you Kyle, I didn't know your vagina was on your face. If you'd like, I could show it a good time. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about, ask your mom, she would give me a strong recommendation."

Of course it didn't go over Kenny's head.

Kyle groaned, "Couldn't you have just said 'that's what she said'? Besides, that one was weak for you, did you already use up all of your A-material on Stan?"

"Nah," suddenly there were arms locked around Kyle and he couldn't breathe anymore, "I'm just too preoccupied with you to remember your mom much. Or Stan's mom for that matter."

Was that just a quip to try and make this whole thing less horrible or did he mean it? And was he really returning the hug? What was happening?

Wait--

"...you said not again."

"Yep, score one, Broflovski. Your mom was right, you're a real smart cookie."

"No, but, does that mean--Kenny. Kenny please stop talking about fucking my mom and give me a straight answer, what the shit Kenny."

Kenny's head rested on his shoulder and Kyle realized belatedly that some of the tension had released from the awkward hug.

"I don't forgive you Kyle and I'm not going to fall for you. Period. You're a jerk and you hurt my people feelings. How dare."

"I understand that but--you're being very confusing right now, did you, do you--?"

"Yes, you've uncovered the mystery. Shockingly the boy that sent you letter after letter--even resorting to some pretty fucking terrible poetry--had a thing for you. What a fucking twist ending."

"You don't have to be a dick about it. Also that can't be, then all of this would have been..."

"...incredibly dumb, yes."

Kyle tightened his grip, "And you don't like me anymore, at all?"

Kenny sighed dramatically into his shoulder, "Nope, not a bit, all of my emotions are broken, you suck."

"...you don't sound terribly serious about that." another thought, "and you haven't let go of me."

Kenny's grip actually tightened and Kyle felt butterflies assault his poor abused stomach with a commendable force.

"Well, what can I say, I want my cake and to eat it. You suck, I'm pissed at you, I don't have romantic feelings for you and you suck and I refuse to forgive you for being such an incredible dumbass."

"But?"

"But nothing, I retain my right to be pissed and still do whatever the hell I want."

"...can't you just say you like me too?" it was more confident of a suggestion that Kyle honestly felt, but he was already on unsteady ground so he might as well throw it all out there.

"Nope. No can do. Noooope."

"Is that no you don't like me or no you can't admit to liking me?"

Kenny's hold remained as strong as Kyle's, "Nope."

That would have to do for now.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is changed significantly from back when I posted this on ff. I always kinda hated the end back then. I'm still not in love with this ending but I like it better than the old one. To be honest a part of me doesn't want to give them a happy ending because holyshit, that was some p heavy unforgivable shit both ways. My intention with this fic was always to show positive emotions twisted up so far and painful that they become horrific and nightmare-ish. I think the two of them need a looootttttt of healing before they could even return to their previous friendship, much less a happy-go-lucky romantic relationship. On the other hand, Kyle is consistently a character (after he's calmed the fuck down) tends to reflect on his actions and attempt to make peace with others. As for Kenny, I just don't see him as the easily forgiving type. Not when Kyle doesn't even quite know or understand how or why what he said and did hurt as bad as it did. So yeah, I'd say with time, patience, and probably mediator Stan, they might just be able to make it work.... maybe. healing must happen first XD
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the weird, sorry for the super long and self-indulgent angst. I need to learn to write these two happy, they're such cute characters ;;;;;; why am I such an angsty asshole


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